I stood before the fortress gate.
It was the first time I had come here since the day I first arrived at this place.
The door loomed tall, forged entirely of metal, its weight and presence pressing down on me. Intricate patterns ran across its surface—lines and symbols carved with a precision that only dwarves were capable of. Once, they must have gleamed with power. Now, the runes etched along the sides were nothing but faint scars, their light long extinguished, their purpose forgotten.
What remained was only the silence of age… and the heaviness of something lost
At my side stood Liana, her gaze lowered, sadness still lingering in her eyes as if something weighed heavily on her mind.
Unlike her usual work clothes, today she wore a long blue dress paired with simple white trousers. Her hair was tied in a single neat style, strands brushing softly against her cheeks.
She looked… beautiful.
So beautiful, in fact, that even the so-called heroines described in tales as "breathtaking" would pale before her.
I caught myself staring too long and clenched my fists.
I'll protect her. No matter what.
Especially from that perverted protagonist. He would surely try to drag her into his filthy harem one day. But I would never—never—allow that to happen.
My thoughts were cut short.
Standing before us was Commander Arvell, posture straight as a blade, his cold eyes as unreadable as ever. The air around him was heavy, suffocating. He rarely appeared in person unless the matter was grave.
If he had come here himself, then the one he intended to escort… must be someone important.
My thoughts scattered when I noticed a small black dot cutting across the horizon, racing straight toward us.
As it drew closer, the shape sharpened into a convoy. Calling them cars would have been an insult—they were more like mobile fortresses, plated with layered metal that gleamed faintly under the light. Sleek in design, yet built with the single purpose of defense. Even an S–rank awakened would struggle to put a dent in them.
Two armored beasts in front, two at the back, moving with silent precision.
And between them… a car unlike the rest.
Elegant. Black. A silhouette of power wrapped in restraint.
It looked almost like a limousine from my past world, but here it was forged from rarest alloys, each layer capable of withstanding the strikes of an S+ rank. A vehicle reserved only for the most powerful, the untouchable.
I knew it well.
Once, I had traveled in these… before my status was stripped away.
The black car rolled to a halt before us, its polished surface swallowing the light around it. From the other vehicles—massive, armored beasts closer to mobile fortresses than transports—knights began to step out one by one.
The weakest among them radiated a B+ aura. The strongest, an A+ rank, carried himself like a blade drawn halfway from its sheath, restrained but dangerous. Their presence alone pressed against the air, suffocating yet controlled, like trained hounds on a leash.
Then, one man separated himself from the rest. An older knight, his bearing sharper than steel, walked forward with steps too measured to be casual. His battle suit gleamed beneath the faint dust of travel, and across his chest shone the unmistakable insignia of House Thorne.
Without a word, he reached the black car, lowered his head slightly, and opened the door.
The first to step out of the sleek car was a girl.
Brown hair, brown eyes, a face so ordinary you could lose her in a crowd. Average, at a glance. But I knew better—she was anything but normal.
Her name was Charlotte.
In the novel, she was destined to become one of the key figures, the sworn guard of Kael's twin sister. She wasn't born to nobility, but fate plucked her from the mud. Lord Eldric had found her in an orphanage—just a child then, hammering boys twice her size into the ground with raw strength and fearless rage. He adopted her, trained her, and his choice proved legendary.
Charlotte's rise was meteoric. She shattered through ranks faster than anyone in her generation. At twenty-five, she achieved S+ rank—the youngest in Human Federation history to do so. The world called it a miracle, a breakthrough event that shook every noble family.
But I knew the truth behind the miracle. I knew the tragedy her path would lead to. In the novel, she would stand by Kael's sister until the very end, guarding her like blood, loving her like a sister she never had. And in the end… she would fall by Kael's own hand.
Now, she stood by the car door, waiting quietly, unaware of the fate etched into her name.
And when I saw her, recognition struck me like lightning. I finally understood who was here.
At my recognition, she stepped out of the car.
Skin as pale as milk, deep green eyes that glimmered like polished jade, and silver hair that spilled down her waist in a flawless cascade. She was a perfect blend of beauty—clear proof of my mother's blood running strong in her veins. A living doll, delicate and expressionless, carved to perfection.
For a fleeting moment, I wanted to embrace her. The urge almost broke through. But I stopped myself.
I knew better.
She wasn't an innocent sister. She was a demon dressed in porcelain skin.
The memories told me enough. How she loved to watch me suffer. How her little band of blind followers, dogs from the main house, would corner me at her slightest gesture. They'd strike, and while my body bled, she would stand there—expressionless—until the very end, when she finally let a sweet smile bloom across her lips.
A cruel smile.
Every time I trained, she appeared, dragging others along to laugh at me. She mocked me, ridiculed me, stripped every ounce of dignity until all I had left was silence. She was the seed of my distrust, the poison that turned my heart cold.
She spread rumors, too. Lies that stuck to me like filth, suffocating me even when I tried to stand tall.
I don't know how such a vile creature could one day be hailed as a heroine. Perhaps fate itself is rotten. They said she changed after Charlotte's death, that grief reshaped her into someone worthy of the protagonist's harem. He promised her revenge, and so she followed him, like a shadow chasing the light.
But I knew her true face.
And I would never forget it.
When she stepped out of the carriage, the commander moved forward.
"Welcome, Lady Selene Thorne. I trust your journey was… comfortable," he said, voice cold and flat.
Even his bow was shallow—purely formal, without a trace of respect.
It was clear he had little affection for the main family. Even Charlotte's expression soured at his lack of courtesy. Normally, protocol demanded he kneel or at least lower his head properly. Yet he stood there, indifferent, as though the weight of tradition meant nothing to him.
Selene smiled sweetly at the commander, her tone warm and graceful.
"Of course. I already have the best company here." She pointed lightly at Charlotte.
Commander Arvell's cold gaze shifted toward Charlotte, his expression flat, almost as if her presence wasn't worth acknowledging. Then his eyes returned to Selene.
"Come inside. I've arranged the finest room for you. Gareth will guide you there. Excuse me—I have urgent matters to attend."
With a short gesture, he summoned Gareth forward. The knight stepped in, bowing deeply before Selene.
"Gareth, at your service, my lady."
By then, Commander Arvell had already turned away, his tall figure retreating with the same unshakable authority as always. Charlotte's eyes followed him, her face tight with barely concealed hatred.
I couldn't help but think: No matter what my past with Commander Arvell was… today, my respect for him grew immensely. He was truly cool.
Author's Note:
Hello everyone! 🌙
I'll be deleting this version of the novel in about a week. I've already re-uploaded it under the same name with proper cover pictures and I'll be posting all new chapters there regularly.
Please head over to the other version, add it to your collections, and continue reading there. Thank you for your support—it means a lot! 🙏